


Maybe Tuesday?

by allthatglitters



Category: Adam Lambert - Fandom, GlamRPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-11-09
Updated: 2010-11-09
Packaged: 2017-10-13 03:38:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/132424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allthatglitters/pseuds/allthatglitters
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For the prompt by skund at the fic_promptly on Dreamwidth: Author's Choice, Author's Choice, Sunday morning lie-in</p>
            </blockquote>





	Maybe Tuesday?

It may not actually be Sunday. Adam has crossed the International Date line seven times this month already and he's pretty much given up trying to keep track. Lane keeps his diary, and points him in the right direction for the latest interview/photoshoot/recording session, and he goes. Who needs to know the day or date? He focuses on remembering the interviewers' names and on getting the lyrics right, and lets the rest just slide.

But he's going to call today Sunday anyway, because for once he is home in his own big bed, and he has nothing at all to do today. He fully intends to make the most of it.

Starting with the man lying curled against him, bare skin warm and smooth, curled perfectly into the curve of Adam's arm.

Adam watches peacefully as Tommy's eyelids flicker slightly, as Tommy shifts a little and begins to wake.

"Mmmmhhhhh." Yeah, so maybe Tommy is not at his most coherent first thing.

"Good morning, baby." Adam whispers. Tommy's eyes slide just a little more open, and he squints to see Adam in the dim bedroom. Adam had taken the time to close all the drapes before coming to bed the night before, careful forethought despite his sheer exhaustion.

"M'ning." The reply is barely audible, and is followed by the biggest yawn Adam has ever seen, and the sight of Tommy stretching every limb like the kitty cat Adam can't help picturing him as.

Tommy curls back down from his arched stretch, and begins to roll away, and OK, that? Is not in Adam's plans for today at all. He grabs at Tommy, who just wriggles and keeps rolling, wrist sliding out of Adam's grip, and then Tommy is standing, and the warm covers have been dragged half off the bed by the wriggling, and Adam's lovely cosy morning just got a whole lot draftier.

Adam pouts, and Tommy just laughs at him. As usual. Adam really thought that once he became a rock star there would be less laughing at him, but he just seems to have increased the pool of people who will laugh in his face if he pulls a diva routine. Which is great for keeping him grounded and all, but sometimes it's really fucking unfair. Pouting rock stars should totally get their every wish catered to! It's, like, in the handbook. (Right after the best way to throw televisions out of hotel room windows. But before the bit on how to decide which color M&Ms you will insist on for the rider.)

"Relax, man. I'll be right back, I promise." And then Tommy is gone, disappearing into the bathroom, and Adam still can't stop the pout. He drags the covers back onto the bed, and busies himself smoothing them over the expanse of the bed, pretending to himself that he's not listening for the sound of Tommy finishing up in the bathroom and coming the fuck back to bed where he belongs.

He runs out of creases to smooth before Tommy runs out of ablutions to perform.

By the time Tommy finally reappears, Adam has given up the pretence and is under the covers once more, lying on his side, eyes trained on the door. Tommy grins, wide and happy, when he sees Adam there, and he comes straight back to the bed. Adam fusses for a bit, tucking Tommy's smaller body into the curve of his own, settling them into spooning comfortably and wrapping himself around Tommy as much as he can manage. Tommy submits to this treatment without complaint, used by now to Adam's insistence on snuggling, and Adam can finally, finally, enjoy his Sunday (OK, maybe Tuesday) morning lie-in.


End file.
